On love, liquor and betrayal (Part-II)

Let’s resume back to the narrative of my friend. In the outset, let me assure you that only my friend and I were accompanying, he was in a drunken state and I am incorporating his story in this piece of writing with his consent and demand, strictly adhering to the ethics of keeping his identity anonymous. That’s why Baidi is used instead of his real name. It is just a ‘nom de plume’ or pseudonym used for him. I was shocked when I heard his unsuccessful story of love making. The nature of his story was that he was in love with a charming fairy and a rebellious beautiful face of his village – a paradise in Chitral. According to his accounts, there was a complete harmony of feeling between them: “Doonon taraf thee aag barabar lagi hui.” He showed me some of her text messages to justify his claims. Looking at her texts of the bygone days of intimacy and thinking about the other side of the picture I began to feel as if I were in some mysterious celestial body where betrayal, lies, infidelity, trickery and villainy were the norms of life. Where love was a matter of convenience, where people change sincerity just like changing dirty socks in scorching hot summer, where switching affiliation and breaking spiritual affinities is as easy as having a cup of tea. Constructing the image of his beloved in some deep corner of my conscience, I asked the friend borrowing words from Christopher Marlow: “Was that the face which launched hundreds of ships and burnt the topless towers of Ilium.” By quoting this, I was referring to her inner rebellious and infidel self and urged him to quit remembering her anymore. On equating his beloved with Helen of Troy, he said, “wo bayqoosoor hai nadan hai. He was still in love with the rebellious soul and separation from her was inflicting an unbearable blow of swords in his inner self. By shattering his already broken heart into splinters, the separation was so unbearable that he wept and kissed my hands for almost an hour. When I helped him in clotting his tears with my handkerchief, I observed his eyes red hot, lashes swollen and eyeballs readily bulging out to leave their abode. After an hour, tears were stopped, my handkerchief was wet. The friend was flying sitting on the wings of liquor. The situation knocked at the door, my friend started monologue ignoring my presence as if I were non-existent there. It was a monologue for me, to my friend it was a dialogue with his non-present beloved. In his dialogue with his beloved, he admired her delicacy, borrowed words from Shakespeare: “Shall I compare your love to the spring’s days” and added the next lines of Morlowe: “Sweet Helen (Baidi used her beloved’s name instead of Helen), make me immortal with a kiss” and admired her beauty in a very heart touching manner. For a moment he was addressing me, most of the time he was in a dialogue with her lost beloved. The remaining of his utterances and discussions are not to be disclosed, it may lead my friend to face the penalties of ‘Hadd’ or may lead to label him a heretic. He cited excellent relevant pieces from Khowar and Urdu poetry. One verse among the poetry, just to quote one was: “Sajda Karun Tujhay to Kafir Kahain gey Loog, Ye koun Sochta hai tujhay Deyknay K Ba’d.” The story awoke in me the dormant aesthetic sense of love and being loved. A similar story during 2010, of a colleague of mine in Peshawar University, flashed in my memories. That colleague was also one of the unfortunate beings who failed in love and later failed in the struggle of life as well and died in a road accident in Peshawar. I tried to convince Baidi to forget her but all in vain. My friend was unable to forget his beloved in spite of all her atrocities and exemplary infidelity. After failing to convince him to forget his beloved, I asked him a few questions: is there any possibility of reunion? What will be the situation if she comes back, admits her fault and promises to stay sincere from then onwards? And what were her last gossips with you? A long response continued in reply to my questions. “I am always waiting and praying that she may come, if she comes that will be my greatest fortune, I will fill her skirt with all happiness,” he said. Taking about his last conversation with her, he said in her last conversation she suggested him to read a certain book named: “Khuda or Mohabat.” I don’t know what this book is all about neither the friend has studied it yet. He is planning to read the suggested book soon. I am also planning to read it as soon as possible. After reading that book, I will try to share some more deep aspects of this story with you. It seems strange that Baidi during the last conversation asked her to take care of herself and protect her decency, in reply she also assured him to remain a “Paak” soul as long as she lived. There are some taboo subjects, i.e, talking or writing about the events which follow conjugal relations or un-licensed involvement in activities of such sorts, uttering words about human hidden body organs and so on and so forth. This was the reason that Saadat Hussain Manto, a well accomplished Urdu writer, author and novelist, had to face public wrath and even judicial proceeding for his writing on these taboo subjects, which otherwise were the very truth of the society. Talking about liquor or intoxication is also discouraged from theological perspectives to some extent but talking about LOVE was considered a noble discourse in bygone days. However, in our times, when ethical values are continuously eroding and moral principles tremble under the feet of beastliness and infidelity of beings, the subject of love has also become a taboo subject. The subject of love is now a taboo not because of its being an undesired phenomenon but because of the nature it is practiced nowadays. People of our times, especially the youth have made this sacred phenomenon – love – a means to fulfill their brutish instincts. Infidelity, trickery and sensual gratification have been made an inextricable part of the process of love. The times are long gone when Majnoon used to kiss the feet of a dog which had passed by the gate of her beloved and Baba Siyar preferred to jump into the sea in order to avoid the insolence of posing his back to his esteemed beloved. Such were the norms of love in the past and such are the norms in the present days that love is considered as a mere time pass. It is in this sense that the subject of love had become a taboo. Pointing to this state of affairs a Khowar poet says: Khiyalan e safara ma roytu prai e ponghos Girwan oshoi warwar kapal oshoi rudus Bashar arayt hazrat tu ka? Ya hal ko? Raytai ma nam eshq insane aryar hamush The poet says figuratively that “in a sojourn of thoughts I had to come across a passerby whose collar was torn apart and hairs disheveled.” He (poet) asks: “Your Highness who are you and why this condition.” He (passerby) replies back: “My name is Love and human is responsible for my this abject condition.” It is irony that some knowledgeable elders consider love as the last foolishness of a wise but the fact is that pure love is the objective of human kind, every human should love and is entitled to be loved. Loving parents, sibling, friends, affiliates, fellow beings and one’s beloved- which is our concern here- are all different manifestations of the notion of love. As the poet philosopher Allam Iqbal says, Ay Khuda mujko Mohabt day ebadat k ewaz May to Teri kisi janat ka talabgar nehi Jisnay insan say mohabt hi na ki ho Iqbal Dar haqiqat wo khuda ka bhi talabgar nehi. This signifies that, a pure love with ‘Insan’ will lead to the love of God provided it is done in the purest of its form and devoid of any form of trickery, lies and betrayal. It is unfortunate that modern lovers have ruined the overall sacredness of the very concept. The concept of love should not be discouraged but the ways through which it is practiced should be condemned. If love is practiced in its purest form it will open vistas of success, serenity, satisfaction and accomplishment, but if it is practiced complying with the current disgusting norms , then certainly it will prove disastrous. I suggest the youth who are in love, not to abandon their love or to abstain from loving any person but to abandon the abominable ways in which love is practiced contemporarily. Love demands a very careful undertaking, if the process of love is not allowed to deteriorate further the already crippling moral values and not allowed to hinder in the ways of making one-self a beneficial entity for society than it is a blessing and should be pursued further. If it is practiced in the way as evident from Baidi’s case than it is a hex. This I suggest to all the lovers and to those who have been involved in love including the beloved of Baidi, to be prudent and careful in the process. If I am fortunate enough that the beloved of my friend may access to this piece of writing, I request her to come back to her beloved because of many reasons. He loves her very much, his story tells thousands of suffering. I urge the rebellious soul to come back soon. No one on earth love her more than my friend. Dear beloved of my friend, my would be Bhabi! Please remember ‘to the world you may be a single person, but to a single person (my friend) you are the whole world’, he is suffering without you and I am sure if you ignore him any more you will suffer more than him. Gauge his love for you, you know him well, you know more than what I know about your story. So, please do think over all the events, I am cent percent sure you will never find any more worthy gift in this life than the love of Baidi for you. ……..To be continued after reading “Khuda or Mohabat”…. For Part 1 of this article, read here: “https://www.chitraltoday.net/2014/04/06/on-love-liquor-and-betrayal-part-i/#sthash.VjjcF7B6.dpbs The writer can be reached at: mjalal_pmr@yahoo.com    ]]>

4 Replies to “On love, liquor and betrayal (Part-II)”

  1. It seems that the writer has been brought up in an environment where there is no respect for elders and where social values and norms are taken just as the episode of the past. The writer seems to be one who knows no social etiquette and do not know how to react to one dissenting his point of view. I strongly suggest the learned writer to pass at least one year in a remote village of Chitral and know the values of INSANIAT there.

  2. It is not rubbish but it is a creation of a of a writer.everyone is free to write what he want.so it is not good to discourage writers. Freedom of expression should be honored. I see no fault in the writing.I think it is a part of a novel story. In the beginning it seems a good love story.

  3. @ Sher Muhammad
    Awa kia ke nivayshi asum hs literature o e sinf.Tu ma khayala paranu zamao talim yafta, nogh dunyo dynamics an jam hush no kosan. pesa zamana novel ya khur fictitious writings haft roza, mah nama ya se mahia kura chap bawtani. hanisay sub kuch online biko roy prefer konian tan novel ya khur qesmo writings an online publish konian.
    ma hay writing a na ta mehboobo bra lu sher na miko hato. hs e story. Ke loltaw jam, ke no loltaw bipi loli apaki dika dt. Lot ke how kia kia tarza roy nivayshinian hatan hush kos.
    Ta e lu jam, ke writer biko bachain koshish koraylik ray. ma khayala writer biko bachaain koshish koko e behtarin platform online kia korik
    Ahmad Farazo e share o tat dedicate koman
    “Shikwa-e- zulmatay shub say kahin behtar tha
    Apnay Hisay k diay jalatay jatay.

  4. Giving such a huge space to a rubbish where there is nothing to read. It seems the story of some street boy as one can often with such characters running after every good-looking girl come across. It does not merit to be published on an esteemed online daily. Whatever the gentleman has tried to express here speaks volume of his frustration which he is trying to present in a different way. My advise to him is that he should work hard first if he wants to become a writer and publish fairy tales of his beloved on facebook or other such medium as this online daily is not appropriate for such stuff.

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